The Quiet Ones
by arabellaesque
Summary: A path through SoA and ToB based off one-shots from Valygar's point of view; featuring Aerie predominantly , Anomen, Nalia and Cernd.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - This short tale assumes you know the basic story of BG2:SoA and (eventually) ToB. If you don't, you won't get as much from it as you potentially could.**

It was over. The man -- the fearsome necromancer who had caused so much pain and suffering to the family -- lay dead at his feet. His dying words had sought to blame everything on spirits and demons; he claimed to have been possessed by a force that compelled him to travel through time, seeking out his descendents so that he could use their own lives to fuel his abominable existence.

He had a name, of course. Lavok. It had been the most notorious name in the whole Corthala line -- the ancestor who refused to die. And now, at last, the curse had been brought to an end, but at what cost? There was no one else. Valygar was the last of the bloodline, having sworn to bring an end to the accursed Corthala name to prevent Lavok from continuing his unnatural life.

Now Lavok was gone, and all Valygar had left was the lingering bitterness he felt; a weak aftertaste to the distrust and loathing he'd held for magic and those who wielded it for almost his whole life. What future could he possibly have?

--

The wingless cleric had insisted they take the necromancer's corpse to the nearby temple; a Temple of Ilmater, the Crying God, of all places. Valygar had just snorted; he would have pretended that it didn't matter to him either way, whether they saw to the remains of his ancestor, or whether they were left to be rot on the steps of his magical travesty. But, in truth, he was glad -- not only because someone else had suggested it, so he could distance himself from the idea, but because it was the first time the young girl had managed to put her foot down and almost _demand_ that something be done.

The others had not been overly concerned either way – Valygar had wondered, had one decided to argue with the priestess, how quickly her determination would have seeped and sapped, drained from her as quickly as a drunk's bottle. But as no one had, the body had been ritually carried to the kindly priest, and a donation left in their wake to oversee any costs and efforts. When they'd then left, Valygar had found himself following his new companions automatically, only pausing to stop when their leader -- a red-haired young man, strong, honourable, and completely blind to the futility of acting on behalf of the Gods -- had. Brevad was his name, and he was proud of his status as a Paladin. He'd asked if Valygar wished to continue travelling with them.

Valygar had taken a quick look at the assembled men and women. The good-natured, laid-back paladin; the avariel mage who also served as a slave to her chosen gods; another godly type -- this time, a man who also had aspirations reaching to paladin-hood; the peaceful man of nature, who was the only one to smile during the late hour; and the young noblewoman, studying the deprived area in which they stood as if she were assessing whom to next give a stray gold coin to.

Valygar had sighed and nodded.

--

It didn't take long for Valygar to settle in the group; it had helped, of course, that they'd aided him against his ancestor, rather than turning him into the Cowled Wizards as they'd originally been hired to do. But from the moment they pledged their support to his cause, he felt as if he could trust them -- and that wasn't a sensation he often experienced.

Brevad was, initially, very much a mystery to Valygar. He obviously held good intentions, and his devotion to his path and Gods were unmistakably clear. But he spoke of himself even less than Valygar did; eventually the ranger learnt that he'd lived with a foster father, of sorts, and he had been killed on the roads. This had left Brevad on his own with his little sister, and together, with the help of some friends, they'd found the killer of the paladin's father -- and discovered he was Brevad's half-brother in the process.

And just when Brevad and Imoen, his sister, felt they could get on with their lives and parted company with their comrades, they were abducted and taken to Athkatla. They managed to escape, but Imoen was taken into custody of the Cowled Mages, along with their original kidnapper. Now Brevad was on a joint mission -- to rescue his young sibling, and to find out what his former captor had wanted from them.

Somewhere along the line he'd met with the others. The priest, Anomen Delryn was his name; he'd met the paladin in an inn close to where Lavok's planar sphere had erupted into being. Brevad had been alone, disorientated -- Anomen had offered his service when he heard what had happened to the young maiden, and so they'd joined forces with a god-fearing display of camaraderie.

It had not always been smooth-sailing, however. The avariel girl, Aerie, had been the third to join the group, rescued by the two knights (or one knight, and the other still aspiring, Valygar noted) when her circus was taken over by one of the crazed gnome illusionists. Rather than return to her home, she'd asked to continue travelling with the men, and they had accepted her offer. She had witnessed the rough with the smooth; the younger Delryn, lacking the years of service that Brevad had already accumulated, was impatient, lacking the foresight to understand why the slightly elder man chose the paths he did. There was occasional ill-feeling; not hostility, she had quickly reassured the ranger, but a tension between them. Brevad had all that young Anomen wished for, but feared he would never have. Aerie didn't seem share the young priest's worries; travelling with Brevad, she had said, had been nothing but enlightening and inspiring for Anomen. She had no doubt he will pass his test; especially now, she'd said.

Valygar had asked, why now.

Aerie had smiled. Because he had learned to deal with his anger, she'd said. Because he'd lost his sister, and he had seen past the fury in his grief; because he'd realised he did know, all along, how he was meant to act as a knight -- because it was how he _had_ acted. Then she'd sighed softly, and a reflective look crossed her face as she spoke of how he'd needed only a little guidance to keep him right.

And next time, Valygar had wondered. Would he need guidance the next time he felt his ire rise?

Aerie had shaken her head. No, she'd mused. He'd learnt. And the discussion had ended, leaving each of them to mull over their exchange. The girl was almost an enigma to Valygar; she stood for everything he despised, but carried an aura of innocent inoffensiveness with her. Sometimes he managed to forget that she was so enveloped in the ways of the arcane, both with her magic and her spirituality; and then he'd see her as a gentle peace-maker, the one in the group who hated bickering and in-fighting above all else, and who only wanted everyone to be happy; everyone to be friends.

And she was growing in confidence so much, every day, that he couldn't even pity her. Not the normal condolences, though -- he hardly saw her lack of wings as any significant problem, though he could understand her sorrow over their loss. No, his pity was for her blind devotion to her god, and her steady assurance that they'd be under his protection while she remained his loyal servant.

That, along with her magic, made her everything he should despise and scorn. And yet, he didn't. The young noblewoman, Nalia, however, wasn't free from his contempt he discovered. She meant well -- he had to at least acknowledge and agree with that. But her methods, and her ways... it exasperated him just to think about it. She would idly give coins to the beggars on the street, knowing that each one she passed on was one less for Brevad to have to put towards his sister's rescue -- for that mission, in itself, was to cost the party a pretty price. And when questioned about it, she would grow flustered and hot-tempered, declaring that society itself was unfair, and she would do all she could to redress the balance. But when redressing the balance involved trekking along the Athkatlan sewers, or digging around in old, dirty caves, the young noblewoman would turn pale and protest initially, until the others calmed her down and coaxed her into joining them. It was obvious to Valygar that she wasn't fit for a life on the road; but it was Aerie, again, who filled him in on the woman's immediate past.

She'd lived with her father in a large keep, set in the heart of their lands, Aerie had said. She'd been known to sneak out, managing to find her way into the city on occasion, where she'd make her way around the poorer areas, handing out what money she'd managed to carry with her, and lecturing anyone who'd listen on the unfairness of it all. She only wanted to do some good, Aerie had noted.

And then one day she'd gone to return home, and as she'd ridden over the crest of the hill, she'd seen her home under attack by vicious creatures. Her home had fallen swiftly to the invasion, and her father's men had been driven out, the drawbridge closed after they fled. Nalia had panicked, riding back to the city as fast as she could. She'd almost managed to run Aerie over, apparently, in her haste to find someone, anyone, to help.

It was a task that the paladin and squire couldn't turn down. They'd marched there as fast as they could -- Nalia's horse had bolted when she reined it up after the near miss, and the noblewoman had unceremoniously been deposited onto the muddy ground. The image of this caused Valygar to smile slightly.

After the keep had been saved, but Nalia's father had not, the young noblewoman had faced a choice, Aerie had said. To stay at her home and wed a man she hated but was betrothed to, or to take to life on the road under the safety of Brevad's protection. Aerie had insisted that Nalia had no choice; nothing would have been quite as bad as spending the rest of her life in an unhappy relationship, the avariel had stated. Valygar had shrugged.

And then there was Cernd; not even Aerie knew much about Cernd, as he had been the most recent to join with them, just before they returned to the city from a trip to Trademeet. It was on the way back from there that they passed through the Umar Hills, finding Valygar in his cabin and agreeing to follow him into the Planar Sphere. It all seemed like a lifetime ago...

But Cernd; nature-loving, quiet-spoken, good-hearted Cernd. He was, in some ways, much like Aerie -- preferring everyone to get along with each other, and distancing himself from any squabbles as much as he could. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was there, because he might not have said a word for hours; but when he finally spoke, his melodic voice would easily wade through nature driven metaphors while deftly avoiding any real reference to himself.

And then there was Cernd in battle; a quiet voice at the rear of the rank, calling on the blessings of the natural world around him... and then! Then a beast charging past, more wolf than man despite his tendency to run on two legs and use his 'arms' to claw and mutilate. It was always the quiet ones, Valygar had noted to himself that you should watch out for.

And this party seemed to have more than its fair share of quiet ones.


	2. Chapter 2

"Madness."

No one was paying attention to him, but he muttered to himself regardless, still shaking his head in disbelief. It was surreal; like a scene from a play, or a fanciful bard's tale. Only, to Valygar Corthala, it was very, _very _real.

Not content with taking on a cult of beholders and a large division of the Athkatlan slave industry, Brevad seemed intent on pushing his luck further and further. Admittedly, they faced an enormous challenge in trying to find the coin to pay for passage to rescue his sister, but... There were ways and means, and Valygar was realising that he had very _different_ ways and means.

Brevad was laughing, still high on the adrenaline and intoxication of a seemingly impossible victory. And not only victory -- but a victory with no losses to their side at all. Both Anomen and Cernd had received vicious injuries, it was true; but both were more than capable of calling on their respective powers to heal the wounds, and with Aerie waiting in the background, in case her own skills were needed...

Anomen was smiling. A genuinely warm and triumphant smile, one of few to manage to escape past his usual guarded and hard expression. He was listening to Brevad relate some part of the all-too recent battle to him, while they both used what weapons they had to scrape the red scales from the dead wyrm.

Valygar caught himself staring blankly at the deceased dragon. He assumed it really was dead, and not just luring them into a false sense of security. He couldn't imagine any beast willingly allowing itself to be skinned just so it could incinerate its attackers without having to chase them first.

There was a crash from just behind the creature, and Nalia's voice called out an apology. His eyes drifted over to find her, delicately trying to scale the mountainous hoard that was nestled snugly against the cavern wall. It was not all jewels and gold, unfortunately; bones, debris and rocks were the bulk of the form, and the young noblewoman had been tasked with searching through as well as she could to find anything of value. She hadn't been pleased with the idea, but had at least managed to apply herself to it without protesting overly much.

And then, at the far side of the cavern, Cernd lay still, reclining back against the smooth wall with his eyes closed. Aerie knelt beside him; the worried expression she'd worn only minutes before, when Valygar last checked the druid, had disappeared, and she now looked a lot more at ease with his request to rest. The transformation, he'd said, had seeped the strength from him. He would use the calm to find himself anew; the journey back to the safety of Garren's cabin would be long and possibly dangerous.

His eyes drifted back to the paladin and the priest, and he didn't even hear the footsteps as they softly approached him. He jumped when the avariel's hand lightly touched his arm.

"I-I'm sorry," she apologised, immediately. "I didn't mean to-"

He cut her off by shaking his head. "There is no need to apologise, Aerie. What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to check that y-you were all right," she said; slightly hesitant, as was her way, but with a warm smile at the end. Even the gentle elf was not immune to the triumphant atmosphere lingering in the air.

Valygar nodded distractedly. The battle was still fresh, but it was already beginning to fade from his memory. How he'd managed to avoid any form of injury would forever be a mystery to him; though it seemed as though the dragon known as Firkraag had decided that the two armoured men were his biggest threats, and they'd received his full attention, allowing Valygar to assist with the attack relatively easily. He'd only needed to make sure that he didn't get in the way of the irate creature's legs and wings... unlike Cernd.

The air around him seemed to change slightly, and he shot a quizzical glance over to Aerie. She was looking at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead. "I didn't catch what you said...?"

She flushed slightly, which in turn only caused him to shift slightly and feel uncomfortable. He hadn't intended to cause her any embarrassment, but the young girl's eyes had darted away and she'd begun to wring her hands as she stood there.

"I-I just wondered how you w-were... feeling," she said, biting her lip nervously. And then, seeing his puzzled expression, she continued, nervously: "I know you d-don't like magic, b-but we had to use it here..."

"Ah." He almost sighed with relief as he realised the source of her discomfort, but managed to prevent it at the last moment for fear of upsetting her again. He frowned slightly, wondering how to answer her question.

"It's why Nalia and I s-study it, you see," she continued earnestly, large blue eyes looking up at him with solemn sincerity. "There are some who u-use it for evil intents, but it's not m-magic that has corrupted them... they are just very nasty people!"

He almost smiled at her naive conclusion. "Magic corrupts, Aerie," he sighed, shaking his head again. "Can't you see? You think you're doing right by lending your arcane abilities to this group, but it will only end up with you becoming more and more powerful. And with that power, will come the change."

She frowned at him. "N-no," she said firmly. "I think you're wrong."

He shrugged. "Can you deny my words are true for some?" he asked. "Hours -- no, days, or months, even, spent pouring over tomes and books. All that time spent, wasted while you ignore those around you... while you forget those in your life..."

Her scowl had turned to creases of concern. "V-valygar?" she asked quietly. "Wh-what's happened to make you like this?"

He grunted, shaking his arm away as her hand reached out once more, and turned to walk away. He tried to pretend he had nothing to say, but he knew it wasn't true; the memories of his family -- of his mother -- were still too fresh to forget, despite the many years that had passed. He knew he'd upset the avariel -- despite all his intentions not to, he'd failed. But he was becoming used to that; the failed son of a failed family. It was, perhaps, for the best that he was the end of the line.

It was only when Nalia screamed, and came tumbling down from her perch on high, landing before him with a slight 'thud' that he realised he'd wandered towards the hoard. He leant down, heaving the girl up as she took his hand; and then rolled his eyes as she bounded away, grabbing something else from the floor that had clattered to the ground without a word of thanks.

He let out a sigh, and wondered if it was time to return to his cabin. The years he'd spent alone had acclimatised him to the feeling of loneliness; it was harder allowing himself to feel part of a group than he'd imagined it would be.

--

The sounds of celebration spilt from the open windows of Garren Windspear's cabin as the revelry continued inside, despite the late hour. The man, once reduced to a shadow of his former self, was now celebrating with the rest of Valygar's companions in the wake of Firkraag's death. The lands would return to his ownership, the troubles that had plagued him for many years would be no more.

And in return he'd sought to clear their names with the Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla; a large relief to both Brevad and Anomen, though Valygar was neutral to the whole affair. Had they not been tricked by the cruelty of illusions and magics, then they would never have fought the creatures; creatures who turned out to be, in the end, paladins and squires from the Order. It seemed that bringing the wyrm to justice by death was sufficient for them to overlook the situation, and Nalia's discovery of the large jewelled sword had ensured that relations between the two groups were renewed to a moderate high.

Valygar sat down beside the placid lake, allowing himself a long, weary sigh as he did so. Night had only fallen properly a few hours before, but already he could hear the occasional noises of the nocturnal world; crickets would chirp, owls would swoop past overhead with a rare hoot, and he was sure, if the gentle breeze was blowing in the right direction, that he could make out the distant sound of a lone wolf, howling up to the moon.

It was quiet enough for him to hear the sounds of the revellers increase momentarily, as the door to the cabin was opened, and then closed again quietly, and he listened to the light footsteps as they made their way towards him, stopping a respectable distance back as the owner hesitated in their approach.

"Hello, Aerie," he said, not even turning around. The lake was beautiful, that night. Willow trees covered the far bank, allowing their leaves and branches to fall into the water carelessly. The moon was reflected almost perfectly in the mirror-like surface, surrounded by several stars shining brightly in the night sky. The environment in the Windspear Hills was more barren than Valygar liked; it was all stone and rock, with little vegetation and sparse clumps of trees being the closest things to forests for miles. But here, by the lake, he was finding that there was beauty in everything that nature controlled.

"I-I just wanted to see if you were..." Her voice faltered.

He smiled to himself. "All right?" he asked, finishing the sentence for her. He suspected she was nodding, but he still didn't turn around. "I'm fine. Go and enjoy the party."

There was a faint scrabbling noise, and when he looked to the side, he could see her, clambering over one of the larger rocks until she was able to sit atop it, her legs crossed beneath her form, her eyes closed briefly as she smiled.

"It's nice here," she remarked lightly. "B-brevad says we should be careful, though, because there could still be more w-werewolves around."

Valygar nodded. "I have heard nothing to give me any cause for concern," he replied simply. "And we are not so far from help as to concern ourselves needlessly."

She nodded at this, seeming to relax more. Her eyes roamed over the lake. "I d-didn't mean to upset you, earlier," she began, as nervously as he was becoming used to. "I guess we j-just look at things d-differently..."

How could he argue with that? She was everything he mistrusted and resented. And yet, she was one of the most caring and concerned people he'd met. She was proving to be something of an enigma.

"U-uncle Quayle used to tell me that it w-wasn't the magic that hurt people," she continued, her eyes now settled on something in the distance, and a faraway expression on her pale face. "H-he said that it w-was entirely the fault of the person who used the p-power. That they w-were weak in their heart, and if they c-couldn't use magic, they'd just use something else, instead."

She glanced over to him at her conclusion, and he met her gaze with a level look of his own, letting the almost-silence of the night surround them for a few moments. She hastily looked away again.

"Perhaps he was right," the ranger acceded. "But within everyone lies the potential for cruelty and manipulation. It cries for the power and craves the chance to wield it; to show it to the world. Then, nothing else matters..."

Aerie frowned at him. "You speak f-from personal experience, d-don't you?"

His laugh was hollow and mirthless; and it seemed to have offended her, because her expression was one of hurt, and her arms were clasped tightly around her knees as she sat on the rock, forlorn and tragically sad.

"My mother was a mage. She was intelligent, devoted to her books. At one point, she was also devoted to my father..."

Neither spoke. Aerie was looking back over to the lake, and Valygar allowed his eyes to do likewise. The stillness of the water -- the peace and the serenity -- helped him to calm himself before the anger pushed through.

"I barely saw her as I grew up. There was always another spell she needed to master, or another cantrip she had to study. She wanted to be prepared for my... for _Lavok_ returning. But he never did, and she was slowly consumed by her longing for the power."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"She was all but a stranger to me," he said, simply, coldly. "My father became ill, a disease from the north they said, that had been brought to the city by the noblemen and women seeking a new society for their parties. We went to the cabin, he and I; the air was meant to help him, to revitalise him. And for a while, it did, I think."

"B-but?" Her question was gently asked.

"We went back to the city, and my mother was still deep in her books, locked in the study. She barely acknowledged our return. I left, shortly after. I joined the army, became a Scout. I didn't return home, until... Until it was too late." He stood up, unwilling to talk any further, and carefully avoided meeting the elf's curious glance. "Excuse me, Aerie. I don't want to talk about it any further."

He walked away, hearing no sound from the avariel as he returned to the cabin, hesitating briefly at the door before walking past and taking the small, dusty path that led around to the rear of the abode.

No one followed him.


	3. Chapter 3

There was nothing left to do but wait.

The mood was sombre that evening, as the companions sat around a large, badly marked table in the centre of the Copper Coronet. Dents and gashes in the wooden surface showed signs of the all too frequent fights that were liable to break out in the tavern, though it had managed to stay relatively peaceful since Hendak and his men took over from the deposed Lehtinan.

Anomen was staring soberly at his tankard, an almost blank expression on his face. The merriment that had regaled them in the wake of his knighthood had dwindled away, slowly but surely, in the wake of the tasks they had since faced. Now there was nothing to look forward to but another battle; the last obstacle that lay between them and Brevad's sister.

The paladin was slumped in his chair, looking more tired and weary than Valygar had ever seen before. His watered down ale was also untouched, and his eyes were vacantly staring at one of the knots on the wood. He looked like a man condemned, rather than a man who was one step away from achieving his goal.

Aerie, likewise, was quietly huddled into her seat, her spellbook perched on her lap and leaning against the splintered table edge. Valygar could see her eyes drifting over the runes and symbols, but could tell from her faraway expression that she was having little success with her memorisations. That did not bode well for the dawn ahead.

To the avariel's right sat Nalia; her spellbook and eyes were both closed, and a deep line furrowed her forehead. She was planning, Valygar knew; devising a strategy, working out what she'd need to know, trying to guess what she might need to improvise with. Her dedication to her magical art had blossomed when she began studying it alongside Aerie, but before long, Valygar had noticed the familiar signs of obsession reaching through. While Aerie was content to add to her spells sporadically, Nalia would be rummaging through the black market scrolls on sale in the Promenade, voicing her need for them to Brevad whenever the chance rose.

It was as if she was there to remind him of his fears and his concerns; the balancing factor to Aerie's enigmatic ability to remain untainted by the touch of magic.

Another shifted in their seat. Valygar's eyes turned to Cernd, the only one who seemed to be completely calm and focused. He was sitting straight in his chair, his hands encircling the mug of berry juice that had been procured from... somewhere... at the druid's request. The man met the ranger's gaze and simply smiled.

"Come, my friends," Cernd said quietly, his almost sing-song voice managing to ring out clearly over the muted background noise. The tavern was fairly quiet that evening. "We sit as if we are flies caught in the web of the spider; surely we can have more hope than that, since we still guide the hand of our own fate?"

Brevad snorted, while Anomen sighed and pulled his tankard closer, eying the contents warily. Nalia awoke from her trance to glare at the druid for breaking her concentration, and Aerie allowed her spellbook to fall closed, looking away from the group hopelessly. Cernd frowned slightly at the reaction of his inspirational speech.

"He's right," Valygar said, speaking before he realised what he was doing. All eyes turned to him, and his throat suddenly went dry. "I mean, by the way we're acting, you'd think we'd been hired to work for thieves..."

Cernd grinned widely. No one else seemed to appreciate the joke, and the knight and the paladin both openly winced. Neither had been happy with the idea of working with the Shadow Thieves, but it has fast come to light that there were only two groups who were able to provide a ship to take the group to the island where Imoen was being held.

One was the Shadow Thieves; the other was the opponent the companions now had to face in the coming dawn.

Anomen had almost been set to leave the group, only finally agreeing to stay due to the friendship he'd developed with Brevad. For the knight, this was an enormous sign of his loyalty -- he'd not hidden his distaste for the thieves and their ilk at all.

Aerie had been frightened by their path; she was uncomfortable in the presence of the rogues and clearly hated it when they were summoned to the guildhouse for an audience with their Shadowmaster. But she still followed; setting her jaw determinedly, and holding her head up high as they made their way through the pickpockets and assassins. She seemed determined not to show them any weakness.

Nalia and Cernd had taken it the easiest, it seemed. The druid was doubtful over the worth of a thief's word, but had accepted that they had no other choice in the matter. And Nalia... Nalia had shown a little fear when they were initially mentioned, and then a bit more disdain. Despite her own lock-picking habits, it seemed, she saw herself as a station above petty thieves and scoundrels, and made these feelings clear on the expression of her face every time they visited.

The silence returned. Anomen had pushed his tankard away, seemingly unwilling to risk a sip from the dubious looking contents. Hendak had offered them some of his finest ales when they'd arrived earlier that evening, but Brevad had forbade any heavy drinking during their preparations. And so the ex-gladiator had sought to be helpful, watering down the beer as much as he could, and allowing them to have a tankard each, free. Only Cernd had managed to decline politely, requesting a different, non-alcoholic drink.

The druid idly drummed his fingers on the table's surface, earning himself another poisonous look from Nalia that he was blissfully unaware of. Aerie's eyes were closed, and her lips moving silently in tribute to her god. She'd spent most of the afternoon offering her prayers to the force she was naive enough to believe in, but had obviously decided that a few more were in order. Anomen stood up abruptly, wished everyone a good evening, and wandered off towards the stairs. A few murmured good-nights were murmured blithely in response. It wasn't long before Brevad followed suite, leaving the four others alone at the table while the evening rolled on.

The silence lingered around the table. Nalia's book was open, and she was furiously scrutinising one specific page, determined, it seemed, to master it before the end of the evening. Aerie's book was also re-opened, but the avariel's finger did little more than to trace around the runes idly. She didn't seem to have the energy left to even try.

Cernd left, briefly, to refill his cup. He brought back some wine for the ladies, and another of his juices for Valygar, who thanked him. The night was warm, and the ale was about as appealing to the ranger as it had been to Anomen -- he was thankful of the liquid giving some relief to his throat.

Aerie also offered her thanks for the wine, raising it to her lips and sipping it delicately as she stared, forlornly, at her spellbook. Nalia didn't even acknowledge the gesture; she was completely submerged in her own studies, oblivious to the world around her -- or at least, she was, until Cernd yawned theatrically, stretching his arms out wide and making quite a bit of noise.

Nalia's spellbook closed with a snap and her steely eyes were directed at the druid. "Well, _you_ might think you're ready for tomorrow," she declared icily, standing from her seat and snatching her robes up around her, "but _some _of us need to concentrate on our preparations, so that we can keep people like _you_ alive!"

And with that she stalked off as Cernd watched her go, bemused but silent. Aerie let out a small sigh and hesitantly glanced down at her spellbook, then up to the half-empty glass of wine she held. With a remorseful look, she placed the cup back on the table, and eased herself up from her stool.

"I should go and rest, too," she said quietly, rubbing her eyes quickly before pushing her way past the chairs that lay empty beside their table. "G-good night."

"Good night, Aerie," said Cernd, smiling amiably to her.

"Good night," Valygar said. She smiled to the ranger, nodded to the druid, and walked away to the stairs. Her tiredness was apparent by her slouched shoulders, and reddened eyes.

Cernd's gaze switched to Valygar. There were less than a handful of patrons left in the tavern; outside had been witnessing a ferocious storm since earlier that afternoon, and the locals were reluctant to face the ferocity of nature it seemed.

"I have noticed that you are adept when it comes to fighting skill," the druid eventually said, his level gaze unblinking. "I feel I must express my admiration for the ability you have demonstrated in our short time spent travelling together."

Valygar snorted. "My service to the army and my time in the wilderness has taught me all I needed to know -- and more -- about dealing with danger. I am nowhere near as capable as Brevad or Anomen."

"Their fighting style is disciplined and methodical, true," Cernd mused. "But you have, my friend, a much _freer_ style."

Valygar raised the mug of juice to his nose and sniffed. It smelt fresher than he'd expected, but he still cast a critical eye on it, before putting it back onto the table, and choosing Nalia's untouched goblet instead.

"You are no stranger to battle yourself," the ranger noted after taking a deep drink from the cup.

"I do what I must, when Nature requires my service. I prefer a quiet life, however."

"Then we are of one mind," Valygar sighed. "If only I was permitted to lead a quiet life, secluded away from the horrors of civilisation once again..."

Cernd's eyebrow rose. "What prevents you from returning to your cabin?"

Valygar's mouth opened as he prepared to reply, but no words came. Instead, a silence hung in the air until Cernd smiled, once again.

"You are still here for the same reason that we _all_ are. We wish to help the man who helped us, because... " The druid paused and frowned for a moment. "Because it is _right_," he finally concluded.

"That makes it no less foolish," Valygar muttered, standing up and moving slowly away from the table. The one mouthful of wine had been remarkably potent, and he could feel it rising to his head, swirling around and causing the whole room to sway in an unsettling manner. "Good night, Cernd. With any luck, we'll live to see tomorrow evening."

--

Brevad's ill-temper only truly subsided when Aran Linvail assured him that their ship was ready to sail, and they could embark upon their journey once they'd finished collecting the supplies they'd need. At that point, all memory of Bodhi's evasive disappearance flew from the paladin's mind, and his focus returned to his captured sister. The group were urged to go and collect what they needed, and to meet at the docks before dusk.

Nalia had gone with Sir Anomen to collect what ammunition they could acquire from the Promenade, while Brevad had taken everyone's weapons down to Cromwell's for sharpening and general repairs. Cernd had been only too happy to disappear towards the Bridge District, his pouch almost brimming over with coin that he was to spend on long-lasting and well preserved foods and drinks. It seemed that Brevad didn't think much of the potential catering aboard the ship.

This had left Valygar and Aerie; and the avariel had glanced around nervously, biting her lip as she fidgeted with the hems on her robes. The ranger had nothing to do, and nothing to collect for himself, so he'd planned on returning to his dockside home and letting Hervo know of his impending trip. One more glimpse of the elf, however, changed his mind.

"Would you like me to accompany you, Aerie?"

She started at his words, as if she'd forgotten he was still there; but then she smiled nervously, and nodded. "Th-thank you. I... I just need to get some..."

Her voice trailed away, and he sighed resignedly.

"The Adventurer's Mart will have reagents. We can try there."

--

They made their way through the streets, he keeping close to her -- mostly because of the bustle, but also because they are mostly weaponless. Her staff was chipped and damaged, but Brevad was sure that the dwarven smith would be able to fix it in part, at least. And Valygar's family blade was to be sharpened -- the magic imbued in it was weakening with age, and it wasn't enough to keep the blade sharp any more. To Valygar, it was just another sign of the end of his line.

He did have a couple of daggers, though; one strapped by his ankle, and the other nestled into his belt. He didn't expect there to be any trouble -- the routes they'd be taking travelled down well worn roads that were being used by a hundred other travellers, traders and merchants. But one could never be too sure...

When the smell of fish finally began to fade, the road opened up into a much wider area where rickety stalls had been erected, and makeshift tents were flapping in the breeze. It was harvest season, and farmers had arrived from all around the city, hoping to earn enough coin with their produce in order to afford their stay in the city for the duration of the winter, should the weather prove to be harsh. Valygar had thought it was at least another tenday away, and he glared, idly, at the makeshift market. It was incredibly busy, and making their way through it was going to prove time-consuming and troublesome. He reached out and gently took Aerie's hand.

"Stay close," he said, his voice low and warning. "We'll just try and push our way through."

She nodded, gripping onto his hand in return with a force that surprised him, and he pushed his way into the crowd, dodging and snaking through the spaces that became available, using as much restrained strength as he could get away with when faced with an unmoving cluster of buyers. Eventually they emerged at the other side, and he quickly darted through a large stone archway with the avariel scurrying quickly in order to keep up. He released his hold on her hand, and waited patiently until she did likewise, before rubbing it slightly to return the circulation. She was staring behind them, her eyes wide with wonder.

"This way," he said, nodding his head to the road ahead -- busy by normal standards, but nothing quite compared to the farmer's market they'd wound their way through. Some other stalls had been set up on the edges of the market selling smaller amounts of produce. Jars of honey, baskets of peas and beans and large waxed cheeses were on display, with commoners mingling around as they tried to barter the best price they could get away with. One stall was bare, but behind it sat a woman draped in colourful silks, with beads and silver decorating her hair and clothes. Aerie giggled.

"Sh-shall we get our fortune told?" she asked, slyly peering over to Valygar. He grunted in response.

"I doubt she could tell me anything I do not already foresee for myself," the ranger replied quietly; then he paused, realising how gruff he'd sounded, and hoping he hadn't offended the avariel. "But, if you want to, I can wait-" he began to hastily say.

"No, no," Aerie interrupted, smiling genially. "I was only j-joking, anyway. There was a f-fortune teller in Trademeet, and N-Nalia wanted to see her before we left. And because w-we were..." A small pause for the girl to giggle slightly. "B-because we were 'H-heroes', the woman g-gave us each a free reading."

"I'm sure it proved to be time well spent," Valygar remarked dryly, neatly sidestepping the fresh pile of horse's excrement that had already began to attract flies.

"N-not really," Aerie replied, frowning as she too dodged the mound and skirted past a line of ants streaming between a hole in the nearby doorway and a pile of smashed pumpkins. "She was v-very vague... she t-told me I was a wonderful, naive g-girl, and that... that I should never lose that. I-I am filled with compassion, b-but I might lose it because of the d-darkness of others."

Valygar smiled. "She was less a charlatan that I imagined, then."

The avariel's eyebrow rose. "Wh-what do you mean?"

He shrugged slightly, walking on in silence until they were well past the town-crier, and could speak to each other once more, without being drowned out by the latest news to be happening elsewhere in Amn.

"I only mean that her assessment of you is accurate, if her powers for predicting the future is ambiguous at most. A good judge of character she may be; it takes more than that to make me believe she has some gift that will enable her to know my destiny before myself."

He glanced over to the elf when she remained silent, and noticed a very pale shade of pink in her cheeks. His frowned quizzically, and she looked away almost instantly when she noticed him looking towards her.

"Do... do you r-really think I'm compassionate?" she asked quietly.

Valygar barked a short laugh. "Aerie, you are one of the most gentle and caring people I've ever met," he replied. "Not content enough with worrying about your companions, you extend your attentions to almost everyone we pass." He paused for a moment, carefully wording the next part. "For all of Nalia's vocal intentions and desires to help those she sees as less fortunate than herself, she achieves little -- nothing, in reality. And yet, you do. I have seen you, as we rest in taverns, or when we pass through towns. You do small things; you've tended ill children, recommended herbs and natural medicines that their mothers can easily find and pick. You've shared your meals with people who haven't eaten properly in days, and you think we don't notice. You're always willing to help when you can, and nothing is too much or too little for you to consider. So, yes, Aerie -- I really do think you are a very compassionate person. Your heart is purer than that of many others."

She stopped walking, and he turned around to face her, hoping he'd not offended her too much by mentioning her friend; the avariel and the noblewoman had been very close as they'd travelled, but Valygar was sure he'd seen the initial signs of the friendship drifting as the human girl become more and more immersed in her magics, while Aerie's attentions remained on the well-being of the people around her. To his surprise, she was trembling slightly.

"Oh, Aerie," he sighed, moving over to stand before her. "I'm sorry -- I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head, and he noticed she was smiling as she raised a hand to rub at her eye, hastily wiping away a tear that was threatening to run loose down her cheek. "I-I'm not upset," she said quickly, wringing her hands awkwardly. "I'm just... I..." She shook her head slightly, sniffed loudly as she wiped her eyes once more, and smiled brightly up to him.

"Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

The wait was agonising.

It was almost silent; the chilly, dark corridors of the Asylum were devoid of any life in the wake of Irenicus' flight. Only the breathless gasps from the companions could be heard, as they tried to fight for control over their lungs following their frantic run.

Valygar glanced over to Imoen; she wasn't at all how he'd expected her to look. She was a slight figure, more bony than slender, but he supposed that was to be expected. How long had she spent imprisoned? First in the mage's dungeon under the city, and then here, in Spellhold. Her hair was limp and dirty, clinging to the sides of her head. It was dark at the roots, a shade that would have maybe been a warm brown colour when clean and shining. The ends were lighter; only the faintest traces of pink still lingered at the tips, while the rest -- almost grey in appearance -- looked bedraggled and knotted.

She was leaning against her brother, obviously weak, painfully tired. She'd managed to keep up with them as they ran through the maze of madmen with Bodhi in chase, though only with the aid of the others. The vampire had caught them easily enough due to their fatigue; but she hadn't counted on the apparent side-effects of Brevad losing his soul -- he'd become a monster, chasing her away into the darkness as his companions fearfully huddled together, readying their weapons as they realised they may have to defend themselves from _him_...

And when his control had returned, he'd been horrified, almost breaking down at the realisation of what had happened. His sister had sat with him for a few moments, and together they'd found a united strength -- both had been stripped of their souls by Irenicus, so that the mage and his undead sister could use them as their own. Without regaining them, both the paladin and the young sibling would surely die in time.

And so they'd escaped from the maze, finding Irenicus as he had prepared to leave. They'd joined with the forces of the Asylum's mad inmates and charged at their captor, relishing the opportunity to seek revenge for all he'd done to them. But they'd been too late -- the archmage fled through a gloomy portal that he'd already prepared, and none of them were able to get close to it because of the wards of protection in the room.

As if things could not get any worse, they'd searched for another exit, and found only Saemon Havarian; the captain of the ship that had brought them there in the first place -- the captain that had betrayed them to Irenicus at the earliest opportunity.

Now he was offering to help them get back to the mainland -- it was the only way, he'd said, save for following Irenicus through the Underdark via the portal. Aerie had cried out; the panic on her face was apparent, the thought of being so far underground was not appealing to the avariel. It was not appealing to any of them.

Valygar knew that it was with extreme reluctance that Brevad raised his head, and -- eventually -- nodded.

--

"The sea d-doesn't bother you, does it?"

Valygar glanced to his side and smiled to the avariel. She was looking nervously at the rolling waves, her slender hands gripping on tightly to the railing that stood between her and the expanse of the ocean.

"Not much," he admitted with a slight shrug. "I've sailed before, although the journeys have never been long."

"I had n-never been on a ship before," she admitted quietly, a small frown etched onto her pale face. "Until w-we sailed here l-last time, I mean..." She paused, seemingly unsure as to how to continue.

Valygar leaned onto the rail further, allowing the salty wind to whip past his face. It was refreshing; it also tended to be quiet here. The sailors would conduct their business with curt nods and limited conversation -- the result of being banded together with less than an hour of notice, the ranger mused. He wondered if they'd make it back to land before one of them incited some kind of mutiny.

Saemon was keeping his head down, as well. It was only to be expected -- neither of the knights would trust him at all, and the only reward he'd received when patting Nalia's rear, had been a badly burnt hand. Aerie, though, had felt sorry enough for him to bandage it up, ignoring his innuendo and suggestive comments while wearing a scowl. Whether it was a frown of concentration over the task at hand or annoyance at the pirate's determination was anyone's guess.

Cernd had been the only other to frequently spend time up in the fresh air. The man of nature had taken a liking to sailing, sitting and meditating on the rear deck while the wind blew his loose black hair around; he was calm, even when the roughest of waves caught them, and his features looked rosier and healthier than Valygar had ever seen them.

The ranger was disturbed from his quiet reverie as he noticed Aerie swaying gently by his side -- the sea, however, was completely calm.

"Come," he said, gently turning her around and guiding her to some of the more squat barrels. They sat down together; he, lazily leaning back against the firm frame of the ship, while she sat tersely, her hands gripping the rim tightly. To her credit, she'd not once been sick -- she only needed to get over her fear.

"It's so large, isn't it?" she said, as if she'd heard his thoughts. "So v-very large. It goes on and on for as f-far as the eye can see, and on it... _in _it, we're... we're s-smaller than insects! It could swallow us whole, and wh-who would ever know?"

"The people expecting us to arrive back on land, safely, would know," he said easily. "And there's no need to worry like that... you can swim, can't you?"

She shook her head, biting her lip. "I... I've never really had a reason to..." she said, somewhat weakly. "Before... b-before, when I had wings..." Her voice trailed off and she frowned, hesitating slightly before she spoke.

"You have someone expecting y-you to get back to them?" she asked, changing the topic swiftly. He smiled wryly; such a change from how she had once been, when the topic of her wings had caused her to withdraw into herself completely, or break down emotionally. There was hope, he thought, that one day she would be able to talk about the issue, rather than avoiding it any more -- to put it fully behind her, for once and for all.

He started when he noticed her looking at him, questioningly. "I..." A pause. "Not as such," he said quietly. "My butler -- my _friend_, Hervo, knows of my travels, but doesn't know when I'll be back, if at all. He must be used to it by now, I should think."

"Oh?"

"After I went on the run from the wizards."

"It... it must have b-been hard."

He levelled a quizzical look over at her. "What was hard, Aerie? Being hunted by mad fools, too drunk on the idea of power to realise the danger they were putting both themselves and innocent people into?"

She flushed, instantly directing her eyes down to the ground. "I m-meant having t-to run like that, and b-being put in that position."

There was a long silence between them. Eventually Valygar shrugged. "I did what I had to do. I already knew the corruptive powers that magic holds so when that damnable Sphere appeared, it was only a matter of time." He sighed heavily. "They yearned for the power they believed locked away inside so much that they lost all sense and reasoning. And -- always -- it's the same; the unspoken promise of greater magical power. That's why it corrupts -- that's why it's so dangerous."

She shook her head. "N-no," she argued; bravely, it seemed, to him. "That's not really t-true. You can seek g-greater power and n-not endanger anyone -- not even yourself -- and then use it f-for the greater good. Those people... those wizards sought the p-power because of who they w-were. They were already serving in a C-council and they s-seem to thrive on power. Whatever they d-did was part of _them_, not because of their m-magical ability."

He regarded her sceptically. "Then explain to me why the most ruthless of men always seem blessed with power of the arcane? Look at the mage we hunt with Brevad -- his power is immense, and yet he craved more -- he stole a soul."

She was frowning now. "A-and look at p-people like Nalia and I," she retorted hotly. "We are n-nothing like Irenicus, but w-we want to be as g-good as we can so we can help in the fight against p-people like him! Just because we learn a n-new spell, doesn't mean we're going to change how we _are_."

She glared idly over towards the ocean, but her face softened when she realised he was looking at her with a bemused expression. In the end she just shrugged.

"And a-anyway... Brevad t-told me of the man they fought in Baldur's G-gate -- Sarevok -- and _he_ had no magical ability!" she finished triumphantly. Valygar couldn't help himself; he chuckled openly, and conceded defeat, for now, with a tilt of the head.

Another silence was only prevented by the gentle sloshing of the waves and the occasional calling of one of the sailors. Valygar sighed and looked up to the sky; there were ominous looking clouds forming in the distance, heavy and grey. He wondered if they'd be facing a storm any time soon.

"It's s-so quiet out here," the avariel remarked, her eyes closed as she still clung tightly to her seat. "I k-keep listening, hoping that we'll hear g-gulls soon. B-because that would mean we're close to land, w-wouldn't it?"

He chuckled. "It won't be long now, Aerie. The wind is in our favour, and I think we're making good time. And our captain won't want us to take any longer than necessary..."

"I-in case Anomen and B-Brevad follow through with their threats?"

"Exactly." They both smiled at that, and the elven girl seemed to relax a little. They turned back out to the sea, and Valygar noted, with dismay, that the clouds were fast approaching. Soon they'd have to go inside; but then...

"Aerie!" he exclaimed, standing up abruptly, and placing one hand on her back as she also stood, moving closer to her side. "Look -- do you see it?"

The avariel's wide eyes looked from him, and out to the greying sea, frowning as they tried to focus beyond the swirls, ripples and foam. Then, she gasped.

It came from the water; a large, dark shape -- graceful and shining, the light glistening on its skin as it arched through the air. It was impossibly huge for the manoeuvre it achieved, and the waves from its landing rocked the ship gently for several minutes after.

Valygar watched Aerie as she continued to stare out into the sea; she slowly moved, closer to the edge once again, with his gentle guidance. And then she was completely motionless, despite the ships movements, her hands gripping tightly to the railings. His eyes drifted back out to the sea, following the dark shape as it moved just below the surface of the water. Eventually, he saw her smiling.

"Th-that..."

"A whale," he nodded. "Amazing, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she whispered; then, suddenly, she jumped slightly, her hands flying free from the ship's fittings and landing on his arm in her excitement.

"Look!" she squealed, removing one of her hands from him to point at something else. He obeyed, squinting as he peered against the glare of the sun as it fought against the oppressive clouds. But then it became clear; another leaping figure, smaller this time, gliding through the air, almost as if in slow motion. Aerie was smiling, the excitement shining in her eyes as she watched the display. Valygar smiled on her behalf; perhaps going below deck wouldn't be so bad, now that they'd witnessed this.

They stood together watching the show for some time, only growing perplexed when the whales seemed to depart. But then they caught sight of the shadows under the water once more, and they both grinned; watching, waiting.

Neither of them expected what actually came.


	5. Chapter 5

When he eventually got over the suffocating feeling that the depths of the Underdark stirred within him, Valygar found himself almost obsessed by religion.

He was not -- he never _had _been -- a religious man. He saw no reason to respect anything that could become as corrupted as deities such as Talos or Cyric. The evilness that they encouraged in their followers, the misery that they caused; for them to exist, the very nature of Gods was not a good one. He would not, and could not, offer tribute to a creature who had once been as mortal as he had -- there was no way he would accept anyone had any control over his destiny than himself.

And now he was finding religion of the very worst kind being thrust into his face at every turn. And he was simply powerless to do anything about it.

Their stay in Ust Natha was proving to be, for Valygar, even worse than their dangerous wanderings through the Underdark passages. Not only was he deemed a lowly male in the matriarchal system, but he was an outsider -- the group had been given a background of being from Ched Nasad to grant them entry to the city. To prevent them from receiving an early death, they'd also been bewitched to carry the appearance and tongue of the drow that now surrounded them. Valygar was very displeased.

He could not be angry, though. They were hunting the mage and his sister, the two who had stolen the divine souls from his two companions. They knew their quarry had passed through this dark city, and a great beast -- a Silver Dragon of extreme beauty -- had given them the chance to pursue. The opportunity had not come for free, however -- they were to seek out and rescue her stolen eggs, and return them to her in return for passage to the surface. Had it been any other creature, the ranger would have scoffed. But she commanded respect... despite his loathing for the task, he knew it was the right thing to do.

Brevad, however, was another matter. He had been sullen and bad-tempered since the transformation, and entering the drow city had done nothing to lighten his mood. Even Anomen was managing to act the part better than the paladin. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Imoen -- the young girl had stepped up quickly to act as the group's leader, performing her role with the practiced ease of a habitual fibber. But she couldn't keep it up for long -- in the evenings, when they were alone, she'd wait for the other to go to bed before breaking down for a while before turning in herself. He never gave any sign that he'd heard her, but he knew -- and he was sure her brother knew as well, considering the extra concern in his eyes whenever he looked over to his sibling.

Nalia, Aerie and Cernd were trying to keep their heads down as much as possible. The noblewoman was unusually quiet here -- her dedication to her Art, however, was undiminished, and it was with mild horror that Valygar had realised she'd managed to purchase some drow scrolls from a trader in the inn. Several sharp words had been exchanged before he threw his hands up in despair and defeat -- the words coming from her lips were like the echoes of words spoken long ago by his mother, when she, too, had been in denial about her obsession.

Aerie, though, seemed to be less inclined to look at her spellbook. Instead, she would be sitting slightly away with the others, usually beside Cernd, her eyes closed tightly as she silently prayed. Valygar had berated them both when he had first realised what they were doing; _We are under the eye of Lolth, herself! Do you not think she will see you?! Do you not think our disguise will be revealed out of her ire?_ But Anomen had shaken his head, drawing the ranger away from the frightened avariel and sad-looking druid. He'd asked what difference their prayers made -- that Lolth would know they were in the city, that she would know everything about them anyway. That whether he liked it or not, she was accepting them there, for her own purposes, for now. And that they _should_ pray -- that the every last boon they could get from their respective Gods might be the only thing that could end up saving them from the terrible plots that were being woven around them.

And Valygar had sighed, and nodded. The knight was correct, of course.

So every evening, while Nalia murmured to herself, her hair hanging down around her face as she bent over her spellbook, and while Imoen practiced more basic cantrips, trying to remember what she'd previously learnt, the four who Believed would sit in silence, beseeching their patrons of the pantheons to give them some kind of ability to help them survive the experience.

In short, they were each asking for a miracle.

But -- for whatever reason -- their disguises held, their days passed as peacefully as they could expect in the violent environment of the drow. They manoeuvred themselves into a promising position with the House guilty of the theft of the Silver Dragon's eggs, and had performed enough actions to double-cross both the Matron Mother of the House, and her ambitious daughter. Had they been true dark elves, Lolth would surely have been proud of their ambition; as it was, they knew that this would be their final evening in the tavern, and that the following day, they'd either escape with their prize... or they would die.

Imoen was the first to retire from their private common room to her chamber, to his surprise. Despite her features being darker with the disguise, he could recognise the signs of fatigue on her face. Her eyes looked heavy, her shoulders were slumped. The loss of her soul was taking a much harder effect on her than her brother, and Valygar sometimes wondered how she managed to cope.

Cernd sighed shortly after, and also wished a good night to the group. Nalia did likewise, but Valygar doubted she intended to sleep -- her spellbook was still gripped firmly in her hands, and she was showing no signs of the fatigue that the others felt. The ranger wondered what else she'd managed to purchase, alongside the scrolls.

The others remained with Valygar, and one by one, their praying ceased. Brevad stopped first, slumping back into one of the extravagantly cushioned seats and running a hand through his unruly white hair. His brow was creased, and it was obvious that he was worried about what they had to face. When he realised Valygar was watching him, however, he smiled.

"It's been quite the journey," he remarked, almost conversationally. There was still tenseness there, though -- a small hint of frustration, of anger. The discipline of a paladin was had to break, though.

Valygar nodded solemnly. "If you'd told me when we first met that I would end up here, I wouldn't have believed you."

"You wouldn't have joined us!" Brevad grinned. He seemed to relax for the first time in weeks. Valygar chuckled.

"You're probably right," he acceded. "But... who knows. We do strange things all the time."

"Nay, my friend," Anomen said, quietly, his eyes opening as his communion with Helm ended. "We are guided by those who strive to offer us protection. Our actions are rarely due to chance."

Valygar snorted slightly and shook his head. He refrained from commenting further, but did not escape the curious looks from the two knights. Eventually he sighed and spoke. "My life belongs to myself, I am afraid. I... am aware that our feelings differ drastically in this sense, and I mean no offence by it. But I am not at the mercy, or under the guidance, of any god."

"Th-they are not as bad as you think," Aerie interrupted softly. Valygar turned to look at her, but her expression was dreamy, her gaze fixed on something only she could see. He had no idea how long she'd been paying attention.

"My f-faith kept me from going mad when I was in the circus," she continued. "Now Baervan comforts me with the knowledge that I am n-not alone, and helps keep me on the path of good."

"It has been a long time since I needed companionship, Aerie," the ranger replied simply. "And now it is even less since joining this group. I have enough faith in my own conscience; to trust the whims of some deity..."

Anomen was frowning, though he looked more thoughtful than angered. "It is through my dedication to serving the Vigilant One that has seen me achieve all I have these past years. Were more inclined to take the righteous path, the suffering we see so often would surely cease..."

"Would it?" Valygar leaned forward in his seat. "Tell me, Sir Knight -- why do you worship your god?"

For a moment, the ranger wondered if he saw a flicker of confusion flash across the priest's face; but then it was gone. There was a long silence.

"Because he offers his protection and his righteousness to those who will follow. And, in turn, he allows us to defend those who do not have the means or the strength to defend themselves."

"I concur," mused Brevad. "Tyr guides us to find justice for the wrongs in the lands. Without justice, those who practice their evil deeds would never have to account for themselves."

"And you must worship a god to feel like this?" Valygar asked. "Can you not follow those morals as an individual?"

Anomen seemed to bristle slightly. "If you imply that I am unable to think for myself by worshipping my Lord Helm, then you tread on dangerous ground, ranger."

Valygar shook his head. "I did not mean to offend -- I apologise if you too any offence. I only mean... the dogmas, the beliefs you seem to find in your faith... they are good. But why do you need to offer your worship for actions and opinions that you hold within yourselves, anyway, as good men?"

"It is not as simple as that," Brevad said quietly. "We are but men... I cannot speak for Sir Anomen, but for myself... Were it not for the strict teachings I received as a squire of Tyr, I doubt I would have ended up half the man I now am. I was... a daydreamer, in my youth. I was lazy, unthinking. I could not see the larger picture, and so I cared little for the wrongs being committed across the lands -- for the people who escaped justice every day. Without the sponsorship I received, and the training I then received, I would have ended up a very different person. Selfish, perhaps. Maybe even morally questionable if ignorance suited me better. Now, however, I strive to end the evilness in the lands, to preserve the justness. I do it because Tyr has faith in me and thinks I am worthy -- and I strive to serve Him to better these lands."

"Could you not do it without your bond of servitude?" Valygar pressed, his curiosity peaked.

"Under what banner, my friend? As a lone do-gooder? I would have no blessing of a god, and nothing to make me stand out from the average commoner on the street. Why would anyone listen to me? I would not have proven myself... I would have no symbol of what I stand for. I suppose that... that to serve the greater good, you must align yourself with the gods. Only then will the citizens have faith in your intentions."

The ranger nodded and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose you have a point," he murmured thoughtfully, pressing his fingers together as he brought his hands up to his lips. "I had never looked at it from that view, though it seems very... hollow."

Brevad chuckled. "The way I said it sounds particularly cold, I agree. But I _wish_ to serve the Just God, and I am very happy to do so. Despite your lack of faith, you must appreciate that He is a good and equitable power. Many benefit from His tenets."

"Aye," Valygar conceded. "I have no real quarrel with the ones who seek to spread goodness; I just have no wish to do it, myself."

"Were it not for Helm's guidance, and that of this group, my own fortune may have been very different, also," said Anomen, suddenly. "Moira's death ignited a rage in me that I had long sought to quench, and that I believed to be under my control. It was only on the realisation of her murder that I had to accept that it was not; and the temptation to take action, as it screamed for me to do, was immense. But it was not what Helm taught me; I was... weak, and unable to see that for myself. I was fortunate, indeed, to have met such companions, such... friends. The anger was quelled enough for me to find my way again, and I swore I would not be blinded again. Helm... Helm saw this when I was Judged. He had faith in me, as I have in him."

"What about you, Aerie?" Valygar asked, looking back over to the avariel. She had gone very quiet. "Has your choice of deity guided you through difficult choices?"

She didn't meet his gaze, and it was several moments before she spoke. When she did, her voice was barely audible. "When I was younger, I worshipped Aerdrie Faenya, as my mother had. S-she was our protector, she loved us and we... we l-loved her. But... b-but then, when I was captured and they... they c-cut off my wings, it all changed. I couldn't feel her with me any more. It was as if she'd t-turned her back on me when I lost my ability to fly."

"Oh, Aerie. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Quayle was k-kind to me, when I was freed from the slavers," she continued, interrupting the ranger's attempted apology. "He looked after me and h-healed me as well as he could. He t-told me all about Baervan Wildwanderer, and learnt all I could. I... I hadn't been able to heal myself, but when I prayed to Baervan I... I felt accepted again. I thought, for a long t-time, that Aerdrie had left me, but Quayle insisted that I just lost my faith, and... and when I was ready to find it again, I c-couldn't connect with what I'd once been. P-perhaps he was right."

Valygar watched Brevad's hand reach out to squeeze the elven girl's hand reassuringly. She offered him a weak smile in return, and their eyes met only for the briefest of moments before they both looked away, almost uncomfortably. Neither removed their hand from the other, though, and the awkwardness seemed to pass. Valygar wasn't sure what to say; Anomen saved him from the silence, though.

"We have found peace with our faith, in different ways," he mused, then looked over to the ranger. "Once, not so long ago, I would have preached the way to you and almost seen you as much a sinner as the average brigand on the roads. But since travelling with this group, I have... I have grown, yes, and I know that amongst the black and the white, there are shades of grey. For a faithless man, you are a good man, Valygar. If you are at peace with your ways, then I respect it as much as I am sure you respect my own."

The ranger nodded, bowing his head in agreement with the priest's words as Anomen stood up, stretching his arms, then rubbing his eyes tiredly. He wished everyone a good evening, and moved away to his chamber while the remaining friends sat in another comfortable silence.

"I cannot worship something just because it exists," Valygar eventually sighed. "I am not foolish enough to deny their existence, and I undoubtedly, they wield their own powers and dubious levels of morality in some cases. To some degree they are responsible for the world and all that is in it, which includes me... But if there are mad gods, then gods are not necessarily wise, and if there are evil gods -- and we know there are -- then... then I cannot see what makes the gods superior to us mortals." He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "I wish it were as easy for me as it has been for you to find some kind of faith."

"I thought you were happy with your lack of b-belief," Aerie said.

Valygar smiled a tired smile and shook his head slowly. "So did I, Aerie. So did I."


End file.
